Dead
by Spwaddict
Summary: When something terrible happens to Lizzie, she starts to feel dead inside. t.g.i.FINISHED!
1. Dead

I hate myself.  
  
Most people think, 'Oh, look it's Lizzie' 'Isn't she pretty?' 'Isn't her life just perfect?' 'The model teen for model America'. But they don't know. They don't know that someone so much like me could ever be tainted like I've been. They don't know that most of America is tainted. I was the odd one out, the one that was innocent, and my number came up. Innocence never lasts.  
  
They don't know that I;  
  
hate myself hurt myself blame myself cut myself cry myself to sleep kill myself in dreams.  
  
I was surprised, even at myself, on how easy it was to act like it didn't happen. How easy it was to make them think 'nothing' happened. They don't know that something did. The words are still hard to form, even in my head, even now.  
  
Rape.  
  
It's a fitting word for the act. To say it starts out slow, then it turns sharp, and painful. It's the one word I can never hear myself say aloud.  
  
'Lizzie wouldn't know what that was.' 'Lizzie wouldn't get hurt like that.' 'Who would ever do this to sweet Lizzie?'  
  
Lizzie knows the truth. It was a harsh way to learn about life, but it worked. Too well. Now, I have to try not to scream when Miranda touches me. I have to try not to recoil when I hear a loud sound. I have to try not to flinch if someone gets to close to me.  
  
I have to try not to kill him everytime he walks down the hall.  
  
And when I get home at the end of the day, pulling off another great acting job, I can cry. I'm surprised they don't know, because I'm not that great of an actor. Do they even suspect?  
  
Gordo saw me once, staring into nothing. I thought he couldn't see me, that I was alone. That's when I'm safe. When I'm alone is the only time I can let myself go. Show my true face, and it's a frightening one to bare.  
  
He said nothing, but he's tentative whenever he's around me now. He tried to hug me once, and I resisted the urge to stab him with my pencil. I resisted the urge to stab myself.  
  
I know what they would say, if they ever suspected.  
  
'Lizzie, you can talk to us.' 'Lizzie, is it that bad.' 'What's wrong, Lizzie?'  
  
No. Yes. Everything.  
  
That's all they need to know, and they don't even know that.  
  
I see my mom sometimes. I mean really see her. I never did before, ignorant to everything that didn't envolve me. I see her flinch when someone sneeks up on her. I watch her always sit against the wall when we go out. Just like me. I never noticed it until now. Now that he hurt me.  
  
But she doesnt' know. They don't know that I was...Raped. Violated. Hurt. Jaded. Non of it seems to fit in my own mind.  
  
What happened that night, to me. It wasn't those things. That night...was the night I died.  
  
I'm dead. 


	2. A Little Less Dead

TITLE: Dead (2/2) * RATING: R * SUMMARY: After something terrible happens to Lizzie, she starts to feel dead inside. * DISCLAIMER: I don't own 'Lizzie' or Disney, and if I did, I don't think you'd like what I'd do with it, so everything happens for a reason! * NOTES: I wasn't actually going to add a sequel to this, but people kept wanting me to, and (shocked gasp!) they actually liked it! And Lizzie's a good kid and I think she needs some closure as much as anyone who would be victim to rape. So, read, respond, tell me you love it, tell what a horrible person I am for writing stuff like this for a Disney show, then run screaming from your computer.ya' know, whatever. (p.s., writing a Lizzie fanfic story while listening to Slipknot is probably not the bets stimuli)  
  
  
  
  
  
I am dead.  
  
He doesn't know.  
  
My dad didn't know when he tried to touch me. He was messing around with Matt, and I was too lost to notice. Lost in thought, lost in anything that didn't hurt as much as being found. I was sitting at the table and he tried to tickle me, or maybe he brushed up against me.or maybe he didn't even come near me. I don't remember.  
  
All I know is that I screamed.  
  
Getoffgetoffgetoff  
  
He can't touch me.  
  
It's wrong.  
  
It hurts.  
  
Don't touch me!  
  
StopNoPleaseHelpStopNoPleaseHelp.  
  
I don't remember if I said it out loud, but I must have. When I came too, there was silence. Everyone's eyes were on me. My mom, dad, brother. I was on the floor, curled in a ball. The way I am when I'm in my room at night.  
  
My eyes shifted from each family member. My brother didn't know. My father didn't know.  
  
My mother knew. I saw it in the way her eyes widened in shock. I saw it in the way she placed her hand over her mouth to keep from crying aloud.  
  
Then I ran. At first I didn't know where. I was going to run until my lungs exploded, until I dropped from exhaustion, until the world made sense again. Until I was alive again. Instead, I ended up running into my room.  
  
I stand there, at first not knowing what to do. I knew what to do when they didn't know, but what was I going to do when they did know? I never got that far. I never expected to live that long.  
  
I hear a knock on the door, and know it's her. My mother comes into the room but I don't turn to look at her. I can't let her see my tear streaked face, or I can't bear to see hers.  
  
She stands there for what seems like forever. I sense her near me, but she knows enough to keep her distance.  
  
"It happened to me." She finally speaks.  
  
"I know."  
  
"How?"  
  
Because, for the first time, I see her. I see the distance she tries to keep from people, and at the same time try to hide the fact. I see the deadness in her eyes. Just like me.  
  
"I know." Is all I say.  
  
"Who did it?" Her voice quivers. She is trying to be strong, but tears are threatening to overwhelm her.  
  
It was just another faceless man. In the end it doesn't matter who they are or what they're name is. It doesn't matter that I see him in the school hallway every day. It doesn't matter that he acts as if I don't exist. Because I don't. I'm dead.  
  
I don't reply.  
  
"Was.was it your father?"  
  
No. "No."  
  
Silence.  
  
"It hurts. I wish I could tell you it gets better, but it doesn't, not really."  
  
It would be better if it hurt. If it felt like anything at all, instead of being numb all over. It would be better if it didn't feel like being dead.  
  
"You're going to have to talk to me Lizzie. You're going to have to tell me what happened."  
  
"I know." Sooner or later I knew it would come to this, but I never expected to live that long.  
  
"How long ago?"  
  
I don't even know. A week? A month? A year? It all seems to blur together. It was a month after Miranda's Birthday when it happened.and today is.?  
  
"Three weeks."  
  
"Oh God." I hear self-blame in her voice. I hear unspoken words. 'How could I have not seen it?' 'Why didn't I know?' 'I could have helped.'.'I could have stopped it.'  
  
A moment passes of silence. Neither one of us have moved. "Lizzie, I need you to open up to me now. This is very serious. The longer you go.the longer you keep this inside you, the harder it is to come back to reality. Life itself gets too hard for you to even live it anymore, and all you want to do is die. I know, Lizzie. You have to talk to me."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I'm never going to stop talking to you. I'm never going to stop asking. And maybe you won't tell me the first time, or the fifth, but you will the fortieth. I know that's how many times it took for me."  
  
"Who did you tell?"  
  
"Your father."  
  
Panic rushes through me for a second. "He can't know."  
  
"He has to. We all have to. How did it happen?"  
  
She can't know. She can't know that it was my fault. I took the drink. She can't know that he touched me everywhere at once. That I bled for days. Then, I wonder for the first time.  
  
Why can't she know?  
  
"I was raped." I say, almost unsure of my words.  
  
She waits for me to continue. I wouldn't have even known that I'm continuing if it wasn't for the sound of my own voice.  
  
"I bled. I thought at first I was going to die. I wanted to die. The music was playing too loud. No one heard me scream. I don't even know if I did scream or not. He put something in my drink. Then he raped me. Then I bled. I.I'm sorry." By this time I'm sobbing, and I'm surprised she can understand me through my tears.  
  
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone. I shouldn't have done so many things. If I was better, or more careful.It wouldn't have happened if I was just smarter, or didn't flirt with him, or just more careful, or more behaved, or-"  
  
I'm cut off because she grabs me. She hugs me with such intensity, I can hardly breath, but I don't care. For the first time, I don't flinch, or cringe, or scream. I accept the embrace because it's what I need. I need her to show me that I'm wrong. That I'm stupid to think these things. I need her to show me that I'm not dead. That I feel, and what I feel is normal.  
  
She shushes me and tells me everything I need to hear. She tells me that it's going to be okay.  
  
Minutes pass, hours pass, and we are still hugging. I never want to let go, but I have to. I have to know.  
  
"What happens next?"  
  
She looks at me and smiles.  
  
"Now, you start to feel alive again." 


	3. The Edge

TITLE: Dead (3/4)  
  
AUTHOR: Spwaddict  
  
E-MAIL: brackish60518@yahoo.com  
  
SUMMARY: After something terrible happens to Lizzie, she starts to feel dead inside.  
  
RATING: R  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own it. Just breath a collected sigh of relief at that.  
  
NOTES: Okay. First, this is hard R, ppl. It's darker than my other chapters so if you can't handle it, blah, blah, blah, don't read. Now that I've been insulting and rude, you may continue. Oh, and don't worry, I'm working on the next chapter.  
  
FEEDBACK: Since my reviews and feedback are the reason why I keep adding chapters, you know that it's much appreciated.  
It's been another week, and I haven't gone back to school. My family gets quiet when I'm around, afraid to say the wrong thing, afraid to hurt me. As if anything could hurt me as much as he did.  
  
So now everyone knows. My father, brother, Miranda, Gordo. They all know and treat me like I'm not human. All except my Mom. She knows what it's like.  
  
so she'll understand  
  
I shut my eyes, trying to ignore the voice in my head that just keeps getting louder. I'm lying in my bed, just trying to get through another sleepless night. Trying to block out the voice. Failing.  
  
she needs to know  
  
She never will. None of them can know. It they knew who...raped me, they'll never be the same. I'll never be the same. I can't tell her.  
  
you can't. you need to show her  
  
I just want to be alone. I just need time, and it'll get better. I'll start to feel alive again. That's what she said.  
  
and you believe her  
  
Yes.  
  
you're just going to sit here your whole life, pathetically quivering in a corner? you're weak  
  
The voice is getting more bold and taunting. I know I'm going crazy.  
  
no. you already are, baby girl  
  
I mentally scream at the voice inside me. My covers are thrown off of me as I run to the bathroom. Don't call me that. Never call me that. He called me that.  
  
i guess it's not going to get better like you thought  
  
The voice laughs at me.  
  
I look into the mirror, grasping each side of the sink. I concentrate on looking at my mouth, my hair, my shirt, looking everywhere but my eyes. I can't even bare to face myself, afraid that I'm the one who's saying these horrible things to myself. The words seem so real.  
  
what's wrong liz? you're not afraid of yourself too, are you?  
  
I'm not afraid.  
  
you're always afraid. and you always will be  
  
It gets better.  
  
it will. as soon as you do what you know you have to  
  
I finally look at my eyes. I take in my whole reflection. I'm tired, too thin, my hair is dirty, an I look like I haven't been outside in a month.  
  
you haven't  
  
I know I should care. I should want to look good and pretty and attractive. He said I looked all those things. Now...now, I look in the mirror and see nothing.  
  
it's easy to see nothing isn't it? to be blind to the things you have to face.  
  
I don't. I don't have to.  
  
listen to me, bitch!  
  
The voice is suddenly loud, screaming at me. I grab my head in pain.  
  
you are nothing. he made sure of it. and you let him get away with that? you let him live as you slowly whither and die  
  
Tears are starting to stream down my face. I look into the mirror again, determined to ward off the voice in my head.  
  
you know what you have to do  
  
"No!" I scream, too loud to just be talking to myself.  
  
yes. it'll be easy  
  
"No."  
  
yes. you can be free  
  
No. No. No. No.  
  
you think you'll be his last? you think he wont do it again? do you think he already hasn't?  
  
I wont do it.  
  
what will stop him then? stop him from hurting another innocent girl like you were once...someone pure...someone like miranda  
  
My face falls and I stare at myself, wondering if I really just heard that. If I'm really hearing any of this. If this could really be the truth.  
  
"No..." My voice is weak now.  
  
she is a peach, idn't she?  
  
The voice changes. It's his voice now, talking slick and slimey, like he talked to me that night.  
  
skin so smooth...lips...lips that would feel great around me. she'd be better than you. she'd scream more. my hand would feel so good running up her legs to her--  
  
The voice is temporarily cut off from the sound of my vomiting. I am on my knees, my head in the toliet.  
  
do you want that for her?  
  
The voice was back to its regular taunting self.  
  
I can't do it.  
  
do you want that innocent girl to as tainted as you? to be as dead as you? do you think she deserves that? and when he does it to her, when he discards her like he did you, who do you think she's going to blame?  
  
"No."  
  
I'm not sure what I'm saying 'no' to anymore, I just know that I had to keep saying it.  
  
right, because it worked so well when he was raping you. no. help. stop  
  
I curl myself into a ball, in the corner of the bathroom. Vomit and tears left their remains on my face, and I'm too far gone to bother wiping it away.  
  
look at you. you are everything he wanted you to be. he knows he'll never have to pay now. but you wont let him get away, will you?  
  
"No."  
  
you can be alive again. don't you want that?  
  
"No."  
  
all the hurt will go away. he wont hurt you anymore. you can be at peace  
  
"No."  
  
yes  
  
I can't.  
  
you can  
  
I don't have the energy to try.  
  
you don't need energy to pull the trigger 


	4. Free

TITLE: Dead (4/4)  
  
AUTHOR: Spwaddict  
  
E-MAIL: brackish60518@yahoo.com  
  
SUMMARY: When something terrible happens to Lizzie, she starts to feel dead inside.  
  
RATING: R  
  
DISCLAIMER: Me, own Disney? Me, own anything? I'm awash in a sea of confusion.  
  
NOTES: My God, I've finally finished! I can go outside and back to work once again, and the doctors say that it's okay to start eating and drinking again! So this suppose-to-be-one-chapter-fiasco is done, and I'm happy. Hopefully you'll all be pleasantly surprised with this ending chapter. Also, I usually hate lyrics in fan fictions, but since I'm a hipocryte I put some in.  
  
FEEDBACK: I love all you people who feed me back.  
**** ****  
  
"You're so pretty when you lie Lovesongs always make me cry I don't think you have a choice There's no truth left in Your voice Remember when we used to laugh Just try to forget all that Wear my heart upon your lips I hope it tastes just like shit  
  
You're so pretty when you die Lovesongs always make me cry I don't think you realize There's no blue left in Your eyes Remember when we used to sing Just try to forget those things Fill your hole inside with dirt I hope that fucking hurts  
  
You have left a trail of deceit Assault and flattery Blasting through my wounds imprisoned me In God and poetry A ritual to mend my Angry heart A breeding ground for your untruth If God created man in his own image then fuck you..." -- "Miss Ann Thrope" by My Ruin  
**** ****  
  
I stand in his doorway, waiting for him to see me.  
  
"Lizzie? What are you doing here?"  
  
He's grading papers, reports, just like he's always done.  
  
he acts like it didn't even happen. bastard  
  
Bastard.  
  
do it  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
I laugh slightly. Forced.  
  
"Me? I just want to talk."  
  
I pull out the revolver from behind my back.  
  
it's funny what you can find in your father's sock drawer  
  
His face is one filled with pure shock. He didn't expect that. People always have a tendency of surprising you sometimes.  
  
"Now, I thought we could start out with small things like the weather. Then maybe we could work on the more pressing, current issues. Maybe politics?"  
  
His hands are slightly raised in defense.  
  
now he's defenseless  
  
He's slowly rising out of his chair to--  
  
"SIT DOWN!"  
  
My voice shrieks to a pitch that makes him fall back. I smile at this. White teeth match my pale skin.  
  
"Oh, what rage I hold inside. Are you shocked Mr. Dig?"  
  
"Lizzie, what's going on?"  
  
"I have a gun aimed at your head, any other questions?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
he knows why  
  
He knows why.  
  
"You know why."  
  
I shift my weight in the deserted classroom. He was working late at the school. I knew he would be.  
  
"Well, why don't you explain it to me anyway?" His voice is very timid. Now, he's timid.  
  
"You want to talk? Fine, we'll talk. Let's start with the party." His face doesn't change expressions.  
  
"No, let's start with you giving me that gun."  
  
Instead, I cock it back.  
  
"How does it work for a guy like you? You play the sensible teacher that the kids can talk to? Then you go to these high school parties, mingle, find something young and stupid to toy with?"  
  
it's not nice for boys to break their toys  
  
"How many have you done?"  
  
more than you think if you don't stop him  
  
He stares at me with questioning eyes and I wonder if I could get the bullet right in between them.  
  
"Lizzie, I don't think I'm following you." I wish he'd stop saying my name.  
  
"Well then, try to keep up Mr. Dig."  
  
"Give me the gun, then we can talk."  
  
"Don't do that! Don't patronize me like I'm a child!" I stop suddenly at that. "But I am, aren't I? I know I used to be a child. I used to think like one; feel like one. Now, you can't imagine what I feel."  
  
"I don't know what you're saying, Lizzie."  
  
"The party, dammit!" I yell, waving my gun like a pointer. He's panicking now.  
  
"The party! You were there. I remember."  
  
So do I.  
  
"Did you think I was going to let you get away with it?"  
  
you were. you were weak, but now you can be free  
  
"We had a good time. You were great, but it was just one night and we both had way too much to drink. I'm sorry it you feel rejected, but is the gun really necessary?"  
  
I blink.  
  
He couldn't really think--  
  
he does  
  
That I actually wanted him to--  
  
fuck you  
  
But I screamed. Didn't I scream? Was that in my head too, like this incisive voice? Did I even get to scream?  
  
"...You...you raped me."  
  
I takes him a whole few seconds to comprehend. "No...no, I didn't. I mean, I...didn't. You don't know what rape is...I mean...what was consensual, you might think...people might have told you it was rape. What I did...it wasn't...that." He sounds so sure of himself.  
  
"I didn't *know* anything. I'm fourteen, I'm not suppose to know what it's like to get raped. To have you get me drunk, and feel you on top of me, touching me..." My voice is cracking. I'm breaking.  
  
just do it. be free  
  
"How could you? You're a teacher, you weren't suppose to be anything more than someone I could talk to. I trusted you. I thought you would never hurt me like that." It sounds like I'm going to start crying. I am crying.  
  
"I didn't hurt you."  
  
"Right, and I'm just here about to kill you for the hell of it."  
  
He hesitates for a moment.  
  
do it  
  
"I didn't...you wanted to."  
  
"You're right. I wanted it bad. What gave it away? Was it me desperately trying to push you off, but being to weak to fight back? Was it the bleeding? Because I did a lot of that. I bled for so long. It hurt. You hurt me like no one ever will."  
  
"Lizzie, I'm sor--"  
  
He's cut off by the sound of the gun blast. The bullet smashed into the chalkboard just left of his ear. I see pieces chip off and hit him in the face.  
  
"Don't say it unless you mean it." I say with mock cheerfulness, considering that I'll never be genuinely cheerful again.  
  
"Jesus Christ, that was too close! If you would have missed, it would've hit me. Just give me the--"  
  
"What are you talking about? I did miss."  
  
He's taken aback, truly shocked at that. Only now does he see the seriousness of this situation. Only now do I. Now he sees how much he's hurt me.  
  
lizzie borden took a gun and gave her teacher fourty-one  
  
Shut up.  
  
"How am I suppose to live? How am I suppose to have friends, or date, or even have a family? How am I suppose to explain that I want to vomit when anybody touches me?" Tears are streaming down my face, and my vision is too blurry to see the ones forming in his eyes.  
  
"How am I suppose to live..." I start sobbing now, letting the gun fall to my side. I don't see him get up out of his chair, and walk toward me, but I can feel him. We both know that if he tries to touch me I'd empty the gun into him, so he doesn't try.  
  
"Lizze, I'm--"  
  
"Don't! Don't say it! You try to say it I'll kill you."  
  
"I don't think you're going to kill me." I look at him, knowing he's right. I can't do it.  
  
but that doesn't mean he can't  
  
"If I give you the gun..." He looks at me hopefully. "Will you kill me?" His face falls.  
  
"What--"  
  
"Please?" I say in between sobs. I'm begging him. "Please, just kill me. Make it stop...Make...me dead."  
  
"No..."  
  
I crush the revolver against my temple. "If you don't, I will."  
  
do it. be free  
  
"Lizzie, my God, no!"  
  
"I swear, I'll do it."  
  
do it  
  
A tear streaks down his face. "Fine." He puts his hand out. "Give me the gun, and I'll kill you."  
  
I look at him doubtfully.  
  
"I owe you that much."  
  
Slowly, I lower the gun, placing it in his open palm. He grasps it and points it at my head. This is it. I exhale slowly, waiting to hear the sound of the gun blast. Waiting to feel the cold bullet rip through me. Waiting to be free.  
  
He looks straight at me, and I look straight at him. Then, he releases the chamber, and lets all the bullets fall to the floor. He drops the gun to his side.  
  
"You lied." I actually thought he would do it.  
  
"Yeah well, rapists tend to do that on occasion." His eyes dart to his feet, then to his desk, anywhere but to me. "I--...I'm sor--"  
  
He's cut off by two police men who charged into the room. Their guns were trained at him.  
  
"Drop the gun!"  
  
He does.  
  
"We got a call from the Janitor that he heard a shot fired. Are you okay, miss?" I don't reply because I know that if I open my mouth I'd start laughing hysterically.  
  
"I raped her." All eyes shift toward him. "Her name is Elizabeth McGuire and she's fourteen. I brought the gun to threaten her with it...because I raped her."  
  
The officer looks at me. "Is this true?" All eyes shift toward me.  
  
"...Yes."  
  
"I'd like you to arrest me."  
  
"I think I'd like that too." The officer says as he slams him against the wall and cuffs him.  
  
Before they drag him out of the room, he looks at me.  
  
"I know it's meaningless, and I could never make it right...but Lizzie, I'm...I'm so sorry."  
  
And then he was gone.  
  
He was wrong. It meant everything.  
  
and now you can be free 


End file.
